


Heavy Days

by ignatzfan



Series: a very large modern au [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Depression, Gen, Glenn Fraldarius Lives, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda?, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Violence, Prologue, Self-Harm, Sleepovers, Swearing, also this is set in like 2011, but he has terrible taste in films, except its british, glenn is so cool, im SO sorry for how british this is, not written in but they talk abt it, sylvain and felix's childhood promise, teen boys being teen boys, the quintessential english freezer dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignatzfan/pseuds/ignatzfan
Summary: It has been three months since Felix's mum died. It has been three days since he last came to school.CW for (very lightly) implied child abuse (Sylvain) and focused discussion of self harm.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Glenn Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: a very large modern au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865713
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this work is a prologue for a huuuuge modern band/uni au im building for the fe3h gang (yes all characters. it started as just the blue lions and i couldnt stop myself) i havent started writing the main fics yet bc im currently focused on my wip,, there may also be 1 more prologue oneshot focused on dimitri before that bc i have no self control 
> 
> anyway this is set about 5/6 years before the uni fics begin, and sylvain and felix are 15/14. 
> 
> some minor expansion on the cw's: implied child abuse is literally 1 line within the first 500 words, but self harm is a pretty focal point of dialogue in the last ~1k words - nothing graphic at all, but focuses pretty heavy on the emotional side of stuff so please keep that in mind! 
> 
> i didnt put a cw but grief/mourning is a huge focal point of the fic too
> 
> these notes are rlly long and i still feel like ive forgotten smth but. i hope you enjoy!  
> find me on twitter @fhirdiad_ :) 
> 
> ps. thank u claude for being my loyal beta and best friend

Today is Thursday. It has been three days since Felix last came to school. He also hasn’t replied to any of Sylvain’s texts, or Ingrid’s, or Dimitri’s. Actually, scratch that – he replied to Dimitri on Tuesday at 10:14AM when he asked if he was coming in to school today, and Felix said no, but maybe tomorrow. Dimitri also texted on Wednesday, but Felix didn’t reply.

So Sylvain is on his way to Felix’s house after school. The corner shop bag hanging from his bike’s handlebar keeps catching on the front wheel, and he’s worried it will rip and the snacks he just spent his last £2 of pocket money on will fly all over the pavement. Moving the bag to hang from one of his arms would solve that problem, but the straps would likely roll down with the motion of his pedalling to sit uncomfortably against one of the pale bruises dotted across both his forearms.

He eventually does decide to move the bag to his left arm. He’s right about it rolling to sit on a bruise, so he has to keep adjusting it as he rides.

Sylvain doesn’t have his classes with Felix, Ingrid and Dimitri anymore. Last year, the school had suggested to his parents that he moves straight into Year 10 and skips past Year 9 because he had excelled during his first two years. Of course his dad agreed in an instant, even after Sylvain said he was scared to take that kind of jump and he just wanted to stay with his friends – he kept that second detail from his dad, but he told his mum, who just looked at him with a dispirited pout, patted his head and said that he’d be fine.

It was all the more reason for his dad to boast about how wonderful his son is, which is his favourite way to try to make people forget that he actually had another son before Sylvain (Miklan, who he kicked out of the house five years ago on the day he turned eighteen).

Sylvain’s dad confuses him. He tells him he cannot fail any of his tests and must keep his grades roof high, but he better not become all pathetic and nerdy like Dimitri.

And he’s supposed to be tough and strong to be able to defend his mates, but he’s not allowed to be too rowdy and turbulent, and he must always present himself well.

And he’s supposed to hang out with the older boys and go to their parties and try new things because it will do him good, but he is not allowed to take it too far – whatever that means – or else he’ll end up just like Miklan.

And most importantly, Sylvain must always obey his dad or else he’ll feel the pain of defying him. He’s already felt that a couple of times, and he has the marks on his skin to show for it too.

The lines he draws are too fine for Sylvain to walk. Now he’s fifteen and it’s gotten to a point where he struggles to differentiate which characteristics he adopted out of fear, and which are really him.

It’s a strange feeling, to feel as if you don’t know who you are.

Sylvain didn’t struggle with the workload that skipping a year brought, despite all the teachers blathering on about the difficulty he’d inevitably face. He’s moved on to Year 11 now, and Felix, Ingrid and Dimitri have moved up to Year 10. Year 11 is not too hard either, work wise. It all seems to be going okay so far. Though, it is only November. As long as he can keep up with ignoring his dad’s continuous pressure about how it’ll only get harder from here on, he thinks it’ll be a breeze.

He didn’t struggle with the social change, either. He gets invited to all the parties because he’s fun and always down for it, but he doesn’t have anyone he’s really close to. Not close like he is with Felix, Ingrid, and Dimitri.

The older boys all want him to join their shitty bands or come out to the park and play football and drink with them, and he does. He doesn’t hate them, but he doesn’t like them. Loads of girls in his year fancy him – the boys say it’s because he’s a _bad boy_ , and Glenn says that girls that age love a bad boy. But Sylvain doesn’t want to be a bad boy.

The kids in Sylvain’s year group can’t understand how he’s such a highly achieving student, but he’s also the type that gets into trouble easily. They think that he looks for fights and opportunities to cause problems, but in truth he does exactly the opposite.

Sylvain hates fighting. It’s not his fault that he gets into fights so often. He can’t let stupid kids think they can get away with teasing Ingrid for having rips in her uniform and being on the schools’ free breakfasts and lunches scheme, or Felix for being depressed after his mum died three months ago, or Dimitri for – well, being Dimitri. The school doesn’t tend to punish him too badly for it either, considering that in every other aspect he is an ideal student. They just end up giving him after school detentions for a week or two, which he doesn’t mind that much, since its more time that he doesn’t have to spend under the same roof as his dad.

* * *

When he pulls up to Felix’s house, Sylvain drops his bike on the grass in the front garden. He can see Rodrigue through the window in the living room in his work clothes, staring off into nothing. He jumps at the sound of Sylvain’s knock on the door and moves to let him in, but Glenn beats him to it.

“Hey, squirt,” he says as he opens the front door, “What’s with the hair gel?”

“My dad said I should work on presenting myself better,” Sylvain complains, “So I can get a girlfriend.”

“Yeesh,” Glenn shudders, and he ruffles Sylvain’s styled hair, “I like it better the way you did it before.”

“But I didn’t do anything with it.”

“Even better, then,” Glenn says on a wink as he steps back for him to come inside.

Sylvain has always liked Felix’s house. It is comfy and lived-in, and it feels like a real family lives here. A family who actually like each other and don’t just spend time together because they are related.

The wall against the staircase displays photos of all four of them at different times in their lives. There’s also plenty where they are laughing and smiling, unstaged and caught in the moment – unlike the single family photo in Sylvain’s house that hangs above the fireplace. When his dad drinks, he always rants on about taking it down because he can’t stand to see Miklan’s face, but he never gets round to doing it.

“He’s upstairs,” Glenn says as he walks off down the corridor, “In his room.”

“Thanks,” Sylvain says, taking off his shoes and leaving them in the porch.

“Oh, Sylvain,” Glenn adds, turning around in the doorway, “Don’t listen to your dad. Like, about anything.”

Sylvain lets out a light laugh. If only it was that easy.

“And don’t tell my dad I told you not to listen to your dad,” Glenn says with a pointed finger as he walks backwards and closes the door.

Snack bag in hand, Sylvain pops into the living room to greet Rodrigue and offers him a strawberry lace, which he accepts gratefully. He expected him to question the bruises on his arms, the plaster strapped across the bridge of his nose and the fresh cut on his lip, but he doesn’t, which makes Sylvain think that he really must have had a long day today.

Turning back into the porch, he makes his way up the stairs and reaches Felix’s bedroom door. It is quiet inside, so he thinks Felix might be napping, but he knocks on the door anyway.

“Go away,” he grumbles from the other side of the door.

“It’s me,” Sylvain says softly.

“Sylvain?” Felix questions after a short pause, his tone gentler.

“It’s been three days,” Sylvain says, “So I came to check on you.”

There’s no sound from Felix’s room.

“I brought snacks,” Sylvain says, looking into the bag, “I got your favourite Space Raiders.”

No response.

“The spicy ones,” he continues, “And your weird ginger beer.”

No response again.

“You wanna play Portal?” Sylvain asks, starting to grow a little hopeless, but still determined to not give up. He promised Ingrid and Dimitri (and himself) that he’d get through to him, even if he had to wait all night. 

He waits for a moment more. Felix doesn’t answer.

“Okay, I’m just gonna sit out here,” Sylvain says on a sigh, pulling his phone from his pocket to text Ingrid and Dimitri, “I’ll be here when you need me.”

He sits cross-legged on the wooden floor and just finishes sending his texts when he hears Felix shuffling in his room.

“What happened to your face?” He asks upon opening the door only slightly, staring down at him through shadowy eyes.

“Ingrid,” Sylvain sighs, “Well, I mean, Ingrid didn’t do it. Some stupid kids in your year again.”

“Hmph.”

“I won though,” Sylvain adds.

For a moment Felix hesitates as if he wants to reprimand him for getting into a fight again, but instead he smirks. After his mum died, Felix had been in a couple of fights too.

“To be fair, Ingrid probably could do that to you,” he jokes.

“Probably,” Sylvain shoots back with a small laugh and stands up, but Felix does not move from his position behind the small gap in the door.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Sylvain looks down at Felix. It’s as if he has a gloomy little cloud hanging over his head. Behind him he can see his bedroom is all dark, no lights or screens are on and his curtains are pulled shut.

“Are you gonna let me in or should I just drop the snacks and go?” Sylvain jokes, though he really would just go if he asked him to.

Felix flits his dreary eyes from Sylvain to his plastic bag tentatively before pursing his lips and opening the door further, signalling with a tiny nod for him to come in.

The walls in Felix’s bedroom are covered in all kinds of posters – ones of his favourite bands, favourite games, favourite cars, and he has a pin board above his desk. It’s cluttered with tattered race and concert tickets, a Portal 2 postcard Sylvain had ordered him, scribbled notes about schoolwork, and some polaroid photos.

His drum kit is stuffed in the corner of the room, his sticks balanced on top of the snare. Sylvain notices that Felix’s violin case still isn’t out; he had stuffed it away as soon as his mum died. He said that he doesn’t want to play it anymore knowing that she wouldn’t hear him any longer. That was a waste, Sylvain thought, and so did the school orchestra, which was lousy without him. Ingrid was disappointed too, because the two of them were practice partners. She’s never mentioned it to him, but Sylvain knows that she struggles without Felix there.

Surprisingly, Felix’s bedroom isn’t untidy. When Sylvain is having a hard time, he finds it manifests physically through mess in his room, but Felix’s never gets like that. Sylvain used to think Felix might tidy up when he gets his bad days, that’s what Ingrid does, but he’s come to realise it’s that he just doesn’t do anything to _create_ mess. He doesn’t eat, doesn’t change his clothes, brush his hair, he doesn’t play games or read, he doesn’t move. He sleeps through it, or he plays the drums, or he just lays in his bed. Thinking on that, Sylvain notices his bed sheets and pillows are all jumbled up.

“The kids,” Felix says, still standing by the door.

“What?” Sylvain questions as he stands in front of the curtains, debating opening them. He decides against it – he knows when Felix is having a heavy day, he feels more at ease keeping them closed.

“You always call the bullies, the kids. They’re not kids. They’re the same age as us. Some of them are older than us.”

Sylvain laughs breathily.

“They act like stupid kids,” he says, perching on the side of Felix’s bed after putting his bag on the floor.

“You’re allowed to be a kid too, Sylvain. You’re fifteen.”

Something about Felix saying that hurts Sylvain. Felix, Ingrid and Dimitri tell him he’s growing up too quickly. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. He can’t be childish like Miklan, his dad says.

Felix stands in the middle of his room, wearing a black oversized Beastie Boys print jumper (probably Glenn’s) and black joggers, his arms crossed over his chest, staring Sylvain down.

Sylvain laughs.

“I’m just looking out for you guys,” he says.

“I don’t want you to get in fights anymore.”

“You get in fights too.”

“I’ve been in like two fights.”

“I actually remember three.”

“Shut up. You have a hole in your trousers on the knee.”

Felix sits next to Sylvain on the bed, crossing his legs and facing his side. Sylvain pokes his finger through the hole Felix mentioned. He has a scrape on his skin underneath.

“It’s alright,” he says, “It’s small. My mum will sew it up.”

“There’s blood on your tie,” Felix says, sitting with his face in his hands, his judgemental eyes boring through him.

Sylvain pauses for a moment, inspects his tie, and shrugs.

“My mum can get it out,” he says. Felix tilts his head to the side, looking up at him.

“Don’t get into fights,” he says, and suddenly he shifts his gaze to look down at his fingers, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, “It’s not worth it. They won’t change.”

Felix is right, they won’t change.

But Sylvain just gets so angry when he hears those stupid kids call Ingrid skint and skanky, or Dimitri soft and wimpy, or Felix grim and sulky. When they push Ingrid around and pull her hair, when they shove Dimitri against the lockers or smack his books out of his hand, when they pass notes in class about Felix and snicker to each other as they walk past him in the corridors – it all makes Sylvain so angry.

Is he supposed to just let them get away with it?

You know, none of those stupid kids ever directly try Sylvain himself. They just want to get a rise out of him, and the best way to do that is to hurt Ingrid, Dimitri or Felix, who never do anything to provoke them in the first place.

Sylvain must protect his friends, but he must not be too turbulent and rowdy, his dad says.

“What did they do this time?” Felix asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sylvain sighs, taking off his tie and undoing two buttons of his school shirt. He lays back on Felix’s bed, running a hand through his hair and blinking up at the ceiling.

The truth is, the stupid kids hadn’t bothered Ingrid. Today, it was Felix.

At the end of the day, two kids from the year below followed Sylvain to the bike rack with their stupid hands in their stupid pockets and their stupid smug faces. He doesn’t even know who they are. They asked where Grim was because they hadn’t seen him for three days.

A lot of kids took to calling Felix the Grim Reaper after his mum died. They say he mopes around dragging his feet with his head down like death sits on his shoulders. Felix hates it so much. It makes Sylvain’s blood boil.

So he dropped his bike against the rack and didn’t say a word before knocking the first one back with a solid punch to the face. Sylvain turned around in time to avoid the second one’s attempt to grab his shoulders and punched him too. He was stronger and didn’t falter much, throwing a punch back before Sylvain could see it coming.

Unexpectedly, the first guy steadied himself and quickly grabbed Sylvain from behind, gripping his hair in one hand and his arm in the other. The second guy punched him in the face two more times, and Sylvain spat a bloody _fuck off_ in between the throws.

With a throaty groan, Sylvain leaned back against the first guy and shoved the second guys forehead with his palm before kicking him in the stomach to knock him down. He then thrust his head back hard and heard the smack of bone against cartilage, a sound that made his skin crawl. The guy behind him dropped his stiff grip to clutch at his bloody nose.

“Fuck off,” Sylvain snarled again between heavy breaths as he brushed off his clothes and turned back to his bike. Only then did he notice his bottom lip stinging as it swelled and blood trickling from his nostril down his chin.

It’s been a long day.

The two boys sit in silence on the bed for a moment before Felix gets up to retrieve the bag of snacks from the floor.

“Two packs?” Felix asks, holding the packets of spicy Space Raiders Sylvain had bought.

“Just in case you had an extra heavy day,” Sylvain says with a smile up at him.

Felix smiles too and keeps his eyes down. Sylvain knows he does this when he’s touched by a person’s actions. But all he did was buy him two packs of crisps that cost 40p together.

“Thank you,” Felix says.

Sylvain sits up and cracks open his can of coke (corner shop knock off, of course).

“So, about playing Portal…” he hints, looking over to Felix as he takes a drink. Felix smiles, getting up off the bed and turning on his TV and Playstation 3.

* * *

Today is Thursday. It has been three days since Felix last went to school. Monday was okay, mostly – classes were boring, and he couldn’t focus on anything, but he went to school and stayed all day. That was something to be proud of. At least Ingrid is in all of his classes, and Dimitri is with them for three on a Monday. When the day was over, Glenn came to pick him up, and he didn’t ask him how his day was, because he knows Felix hates that. Then they got home, and Felix did his history homework and played the drums for a bit, and the rest of the day was still okay.

On Tuesday morning, he woke up feeling heavy again. It has been three months since his mum died; she caught a sudden illness, and it progressed too quickly for the doctors and nurses to be able to do anything. She passed away just one week after being sent to hospital, and Felix visited her every day that she was there. He had watched his mum crumble away until she was practically empty. Glenn and his dad did too.

Felix gets very frustrated with himself for still having heavy days so often. It has been three months, and every day his mum’s death is still his first thought upon waking and his final thought when he closes his eyes. He wonders how much longer this will go on for. He feels like he might just be like this for life now.

Wednesday turned out to be a heavy day too, and so did today – but Sylvain has been at Felix’s house for five hours after school and they’ve been playing Portal, and things are okay.

“Dude, it’s nine,” Sylvain says with a stretch, after pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time, “I gotta get home.”

“Yeah, okay,” Felix says.

“You’ll come into school tomorrow, yeah?” Sylvain says, stepping up off the bed and chucking the plastic bag from the corner shop in the bin.

“Sylvain?” Felix cuts in, and Sylvain turns with his eyebrows raised, humming in response.

“Will you stay over tonight?”

Having Sylvain around makes things okay again. Somehow. Felix knows that.

Felix is trapped in a dark room, a dark house, a dark street, a dark town – a dark planet, a void space as black and vast and empty as possible. And Sylvain is the sun, the whole sun, warm and red and fiery and _bright_.

Sylvain is Felix’s best friend and he needs him.

“Uh, I can call my mum,” Sylvain says, checking his phone once again, and he scoffs, “I just realised she hasn’t even asked where I am.”

Felix gives him a rueful pout.

“I’ll call her,” he says, “If your dad says it’s fine, then yeah, I can stay over.”

“I’ll go ask him,” Felix says, hopping off the bed and shuffling to the door, closing it behind him.

He slinks down the stairs lightly and finds his dad and Glenn in the kitchen, sitting at the island counter chatting over cups of tea. Glenn seems in good spirits, but his dad looks worn out and ghostly. Felix thinks he must have had a heavy day too. He talks to Glenn about his feelings though, and Glenn is much better at those kinds of chats, so it’s nothing for Felix to worry about. Right?

“Hey Dad,” he starts, “Is it okay if Sylvain stays over tonight?”

“Of course,” Rodrigue says without a second thought. It’s just become normal practice now, but every time Sylvain still demands to know that it’s okay with Rodrigue for him to stay over.

“Does he have a change of clothes and stuff?” He asks.

“Um, no,” Felix says, “I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a bag, so.”

“It’s okay, I’ll zip him back to his house to get his stuff,” Glenn says without hesitation, standing up and grabbing his car keys off the countertop. Sylvain would be fine with going back on his bike and coming back up again, but Rodrigue would never allow it in the dark. Glenn wouldn’t either.

“Thanks,” Felix says.

“You wanna come for the ride?” Glenn asks, downing the last of his tea.

“Uh…” Felix lingers. He hasn’t brushed his hair or showered or changed his clothes. He knows he’d only be in Glenn’s car, and no one would see him, but it’s still…

“Don’t worry,” Glenn says before Felix can continue, “I’ve not had a good chat with Sylvain for a while.”

Glenn squeezes Felix’s shoulder as he walks past him.

“Chin up, little bro.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, looking at the floor, “You too.”

“Sylvie?” Felix hears Glenn call as he runs up the stairs to meet him.

* * *

When Felix’s mum died, the first month that followed felt like he’d accidentally fallen into a whole new world. A bleak world that he didn’t want to be in. Despite that, grieving was easiest for Felix during that time because it didn’t have to merge with anything that was real and normal, like school. He spoke honestly with his dad and Glenn and was more open with his emotions. After the funeral at the end of that month, Felix felt as if a page turned inside him and a new chapter started, as it did for his dad too.

Soon after the funeral, Rodrigue returned to work. He just works in some office (when people ask Felix what his dad’s job is, he doesn’t really know how exactly to respond) but he has been in a much better state since his return. He says his day goes well if he has been productive, so it’s a good thing, really. Rodrigue has many work friends too, including Dimitri’s dad.

With his return to his work circle, Felix noticed that his dad had started smoking a lot more, and he goes to the pub after work more often too. He always texts Felix and Glenn to make sure they’ll be alright if he stays out a while, and he never gets scarily drunk – not like Sylvain’s dad, from what Sylvain has said about him.

But Felix still worries about how frequently he goes, how much he has to drink, and how late he returns home sometimes. Glenn says its nothing to worry about and that he will understand when he’s an adult, but he is old enough to understand drinking, and he still hates it. He hates Sylvain when he’s drunk too. Glenn says its normal for people his age to be drinking and that he should just get over it. His dad probably feels more freedom to go out now that Glenn is home again.

Glenn should currently be at university for his final year, but he decided to take a year out after their mum died in August. Now he works part time at the supermarket in town. Glenn is the same as Rodrigue in the sense that having something productive outside of their bubble at home makes dealing with grief a lot easier. But Felix is not the same. Not at the moment, at least.

Felix had missed the entire first month of school while on bereavement leave. His teachers still emailed all the class files and checked in on him often – not that there was ever any change for him to report. Ingrid and Dimitri would come over at least once a week to do homework together and talk Felix through certain concepts he couldn’t quite pick up himself. Even with his friends’ help though, it was still very difficult for Felix to learn without being in class, let alone trying to teach himself the content on top of coping with his grief.

Returning to school made things even harder, since he was trying to catch the new content in classes, but his previous learning was patchy after working at home. Felix hates being at school now. He always gets so uncomfortable and restless, but he just puts a tough face on and gets on with it. What else can he do? 

Some of his classmates tease him, some go out of their way to avoid him, some make weird eyes at him and giggle together while he’s just minding his business. The teachers and staff always pander to him, asking how they can make things easier or suggesting he visits the school counsellor, to which he always says the same thing in response – unless that counsellor is able to magically bring his mum back to life, there’s no way she’d be able to help him.

Thankfully, the school sorted Felix into all the same class groups as Ingrid when he returned. Ingrid is fierce and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself, so Felix naturally slipped into the habit of hiding behind her. Sylvain is even stronger than Ingrid though. Ingrid can manage sticking up for herself (and Felix) for a while before she gets too upset and she crumbles. But nothing ever seems too much for Sylvain; he always jumps in to protect all three of them, no matter what it takes.

Felix really wishes that Sylvain hadn’t jumped up a year.

“Shall I do some dinner for you two?” Rodrigue offers, hands on his mug. Glenn had made Felix a sandwich at lunch, but he didn’t eat it. Rodrigue didn’t make anything for Felix at dinner, deciding instead to wait for him to ask for food whenever he wanted it. But Felix could probably eat now that Sylvain is here.

“Yes please,” Felix says, and the quick certainty of his response paints a small shocked expression on his dad’s face, which soon turns into a warm smile.

Rodrigue gets up and walks around the island, bringing the empty mugs to the sink and setting the oven to preheat.

“You need a haircut,” he says from the other end of the kitchen, “I’ll book you in for one soon.”

“Yeah, okay,” Felix says. He wonders how his dad and Glenn can think about such normal things like haircuts with such dark clouds hanging over them. Maybe their clouds aren’t as thick and blinding as Felix’s anymore.

Rodrigue walks round to stand in front of his son, patting lightly on his shoulders as he looks up at him through dreary brown eyes.

“Felix,” he finally manages after hesitating a couple of times, “There’s a motorsports fair at the racetrack the weekend after next. Do you want to come with Glenn and I?”

Without even answering the question, Felix suddenly throws his arms around his dad’s waist and tucks himself into a habitual, reassuring hug. He can hear his heartbeat in his chest as he lays his head against it, which is comforting. Rodrigue quietly wraps his arms around his son and returns the embrace, patting his back with one hand and stroking his head with the other.

“Heavy day?” He asks in a low voice after Felix takes a deep inhale, breathing in the safe and familiar scent of the washing powder of his dad’s office shirt.

“Mhm,” Felix hums dejectedly in response as he closes his eyes.

Felix knows his dad wants to say something along the lines of _you’re coping well_ , _you’re so strong_ , _things will get better_ , but nowadays he purposefully holds back because he knows it doesn’t help. Felix is not coping well, he doesn’t feel strong and can’t see a day soon where things will be any better. But he’s doing okay and is grieving at his own pace. It’s a different kind of pain now to what it was last month, or the month before that. That in itself is some sort of progress.

Rodrigue twirls Felix’s unkempt black hair around his finger.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says with a pat on his back. A good line. Felix likes that one.

Pulling out of his embrace slightly, Felix adjusts to look up at his dad again, who gently brushes his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears. Rodrigue looks pale and gaunt, and he never looked like that before. He has deep bags under his blue eyes, and he has a consistent defeated look behind them. 

“Let me brush your hair,” he says so quietly it’s almost a whisper, his hand still on Felix’s face.

“Okay,” Felix replies in a similar tone.

“Put some food in,” his dad says, his voice trailing as he leaves the kitchen to pick up a hairbrush from the bathroom. Felix shuffles to the freezer and takes out bags of potato smileys and chicken strips, lining each one evenly and neatly on an oven tray. Sliding the tray into the oven, he sets a timer for twenty minutes and puts a pan of water on the stove for peas.

When his dad returns with a hairbrush, Felix hops up into one of the stools at the island counter, and Rodrigue takes the other. The two sit in comfortable silence as he gently brushes his sons hair, slowly running his fingers through it after the brush. He finishes off by tying his hair into a neat knot at the back of Felix’s head, unavoidably leaving a few short strands at the front to fall on his face.

Felix swivels back round in his stool to face his dad.

“Thank you,” he says shyly, fiddling with his long sleeves. Rodrigue reaches a hand out and cups Felix’s face, rubbing his thumb on his cheek and looking down at him with a gentle smile.

“Fe, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but whenever you feel like you want to, you know Glenn and I are here.”

“I know.”

Felix thinks maybe he would like to talk to his dad about it.

“You are not moving too slowly,” Rodrigue says after a pause, as if he read his mind, “You are doing just fine. There’s no right way to deal with it. When you are sad you must let yourself be sad–“

“But it’s so hard.”

“I know it’s hard–“

“I hate it, Dad.”

Felix feels the rise of tears in his throat.

“I really hate it,” he croaks, eventually looking up to meet his dad’s eyes, full of despair.

“If there’s still trouble at school, we can look at other schools in town,” he offers apprehensively, but Felix just gives a light shake of his head in quiet decline.

Rodrigue sighs. “It’s just something to keep in mind.”

“I don’t want to be away from Dimitri and Ingrid and Sylvain,” Felix says after expelling his tears by focusing on breathing, his voice sounding fuller with the thought of his friends.

As if on cue, Felix hears Glenn’s keys in the door as he and Sylvain return. They soon enter the kitchen, joking and laughing together.

“Oh my God,” Glenn says between laughs as he playfully shoves Sylvain, “Can you believe this guy has never seen a single Star Wars film?”

“Oh no,” Felix says, “You’ve set him off.”

“The Phantom Menace, bro!” Glenn exclaims, waving his hands in front of him, and he looks over to his dad for back up.

“There was a solid month where Glenn could recite the entire first hour of that film,” Rodrigue adds, a huge smile plastered across his face.

“I was nine! It was the coolest shit I’d ever seen!” Glenn says, leaning forward on the counter.

“The Phantom Menace isn’t even the best one,” Felix scoffs, “Haven’t you seen its ratings?”

“I don’t care,” Glenn says, poking Felix between his eyebrows, “It’s my favourite. I’m gonna steal your friend and make him have a thirteen-hour epic Star Wars marathon with me.”

“Uh,” Sylvain chimes in on a chuckle, “School tomorrow. Maybe another night.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Felix says as he slides off his stool, “We have to finish our Jurassic Park marathon.”

“It’s not a marathon if you don’t do it all at once, idiot,” Glenn interrupts, scrolling on his phone.

“Shut up,” Felix snaps playfully. Glenn looks to Rodrigue for support, but he smiles and raises an eyebrow at him as he gets up to do the washing. Glenn smacks the back of Felix’s head as he and Sylvain walk past him and out of the kitchen.

“The Lost World’s the best one,” Glenn calls after them as they head up the stairs.

“Oh my God, how is your taste this terrible?” Felix shouts back down.

* * *

Felix lets out a hefty yawn as the end credits of Jurassic Park III roll. He’s curled up in front of his TV in one of his beanbags, and Sylvain is lounging in the other across from him, grinning as he types on his phone.

“Gwen?” Felix asks on an exhale.

“Hm?” Sylvain hums, only paying half attention, “Oh, yeah, it’s Gwen.”

Suddenly, he drops his phone in his lap and sits up properly, facing Felix.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He questions, with a cheeky smile and a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who am I gonna tell?” Felix responds sarcastically, pulling a face at him, and Sylvain laughs.

“On Tuesday, she took me by the trees behind the music block after school and she kissed me,” he boasts, “Like, proper kissed me. With tongue.”

_Gross_.

“Congratulations,” Felix says sarcastically, attempting to bite back his grimace. That’s Sylvain’s first kiss. And she told him to keep it a secret?

“What’s that face for?” Sylvain asks, his tone changed, “You have your grumpy old man face on again. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I thought you said Gwen wasn’t interested in you,” Felix says with his arms crossed, comfortably sinking further into his beanbag.

“No, I said she didn’t want to go out with me,” Sylvain explains with a smile, “Which still is true. She just wants some fun.”

“And is that what you want?” Felix asks.

“Eh,” Sylvain shrugs, leaning back and resting his head in his hands, “I asked her like four times to go out with me, but she still says she doesn’t want to. I’ll just take whatever I can get.”

Felix thinks that she’s just using Sylvain, leading him on when she knows he wants more. It’s not the first time he has gotten involved with random girls like this, but it’s the first time he’s really kissed anyone, and Felix worries that he’s just going to end up getting teased or embarrassed.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, probably not quite expressing how much he cares and just doesn’t want Sylvain to get hurt.

“I hear you, boss,” Sylvain sneers with an eye roll and a dismissive wave of his hand, pulling his phone up again, “Loud and clear.”

For a moment Felix stays silent, crumpled up into himself with his face in his hands, looking over Sylvain, nonchalantly lazed over his beanbag, his legs spread widely apart and one bouncing as he scrolls.

“You know, Felix,” he starts, without averting his eyes from his phone, “You might feel better about stuff if you had a girl to keep you occupied. Or a guy. There’s this girl in my physics who–“

“Absolutely not,” Felix hisses, even though he saw that coming. Girls seem like too much hassle, and he has enough going on in his mind to be interested in any of that right now. He’d rather just keep his head down.

When Felix sees Sylvain just laying there in his baggy Pikachu t-shirt and Spongebob pyjama pants, absentmindedly biting the skin on his lip like he’s always done since he was a kid, he wishes that his best friend would stop growing up so much faster than he is.

To be fair to him, Felix wishes the entire world would stop moving so much faster than he is.

With a stretch, Sylvain stands and heads to the sockets in the wall to put his phone on charge for the night, and Felix releases another big yawn as he switches the TV off.

“So, school tomorrow, yeah?” Sylvain asks, bending down in front of Felix’s bed to pull the spare mattress out from underneath.

“Yeah,” Felix mumbles from behind him, “Um, Sylvain…”

“Hm?” He hums in response.

“I don’t mean to be weird, and,” Felix hesitates, almost stuttering, “You can say no, but… do you think you could sleep up on the bed with me?”

“Uh,” Sylvain chuckles as he turns around, his easy smile fading and his eyes changing as he looks at Felix, “I mean, sure. I don’t mind. Are you okay?”

“Do you ever feel like everyone around you is moving on with their lives and existing as normal and you’re stuck in time and can’t move, no matter what you do?” Felix sputters as he lifts his eyes to meet Sylvain’s, his voice raised slightly.

Sylvain sits on the bed and cycles through some hesitant expressions before answering.

“Well, I haven’t lost anyone like you have, so I can’t say I feel the same, but I definitely understand where you’re coming from.”

Felix slumps down beside him on the bed, his fingers picking at his cuffs instinctively.

“But when you lose someone important to you, I think it’s okay to let your world stop for a little while. You need the time to heal. Maybe there’s actually some comfort in knowing that everyone is still going on normally around you. You know, like the planet keeps spinning and stuff, even when you’re still.”

The short silence between them is only interrupted by Felix’s small sniffle as he feels a tear slip down his cheek.

“Hey, are you crying?” Sylvain says on a surprised laugh. Feeling more tears rise behind his eyes, Felix leans against him, and Sylvain naturally wraps an arm around his shoulders, gently comforting him as his small cries become bigger sobs.

Felix feels so pathetic crying on him like this. It’s embarrassing. His throat hurts and his face aches from its contortion as he tries fruitlessly to stifle his tears. What’s the point in using all this energy blubbering over something that can’t change?

And yet, he still can’t seem to help it. He guesses Sylvain is at a loss for words due to his silence as he rubs his arm in consolation.

“Glenn and my dad,” he manages through sharp breaths, trying to calm himself down, “They are different already. They don’t get this as badly as I do anymore. It was okay when I had them with me, but now I don’t, and I’m so scared I’m getting left behind.”

“They will never leave you behind, Felix,” Sylvain assures him, almost successfully disguising a quiet jealousy behind his tone, “They adore you.”

Felix wipes his cheeks with his sleeves as he sits back up, and Sylvain’s arm returns to sit between his thighs again.

“They wouldn’t leave me behind on purpose,” Felix explains between sniffles, “It’s just… I don’t know… I’m slower than them. Or like, I’m not making any progress, but they seem to have gotten past this part already.”

“Hm,” Sylvain hums in disagreement, “Again, I don’t know, so don’t take what I say as fact, but I think people don’t ever _get past_ it. It probably just grows numb over time, and you’ll learn how to deal with this feeling, and… stuff like that, right?”

A hopeless scoff slips from Felix’s lips. For a moment, he is almost jealous of Sylvain’s weird connection to his parents, knowing that Sylvain won’t ever mourn his parents like this – and then he immediately hates himself for it. He knows what Sylvain has been through.

Shuffling further back into the bed, Felix lays down and crawls under the covers, resting his head on the pillow and his hand beside his face. Sylvain follows suit and lays on his back.

“And you’re not going too slow,” he continues, sliding under the sheets and shifting to face him, “I probably just sound like your dad, but there’s no wrong or right way to–“

Suddenly, Sylvain pushes himself up on his side again, and he grabs Felix’s hand, lifting it slightly. His sleeve had rolled up his arm a little after laying down – exposing the raw, shallow cuts that still sting, sitting in a small group on the inside of his wrist.

Felix feels his heart sink to his stomach, and he avoids Sylvain’s upset eyes as he tries to come up with an explanation.

“What– When did you start doing this?” Sylvain asks, failing to bite back his shock and anger, heartbreak dripping from his words.

“When do you think?” Felix shoots back, much harsher than he had wished, and Sylvain’s face just becomes more hurt, before suddenly growing softer again – empathetic, almost.

“Felix,” he says in a lower, gentler tone which Felix mistakes for pity.

Sylvain lifts his shirt to show him a collection of deep, fully healed scars – cuts that must have been larger and thicker than Felix’s – that climb up his right side from his hip to the bottom of his ribcage.

“Look,” he says so softly its practically a whisper.

Felix is struck with all sorts of emotions and questions as his gaze rolls over each scar on Sylvain’s skin.

“Sylvain…” he mutters, taken aback, “When did you…”

“Ages ago now. It was when all the shit with my dad and Miklan was going on. I don’t do it anymore.”

That was so long ago – five years ago now. And Felix never knew…

Sylvain pulls his shirt down again, and sighs as Felix still stares at his torso.

“You wanna know what made me stop?” He asks, and Felix finally meets his eyes.

“One time when we were in Year 7, Dimitri saw my cuts when we were getting changed after PE. You weren’t in school that day, I think. Anyway, in true Dimitri fashion, he just started crying on impact and held me by the shoulders and made a huge fuss. I was so embarrassed, but also, I don’t think I knew how bad a habit it was at the time. He begged me to stop and said that if I didn’t promise him that, he’d tell the teacher.”

He scoffs. “And I did _not_ want to deal with that. But yeah, I promised him, and then I never did it again.”

“Also, soon after I stopped, I actually realised that he wasn’t overreacting at all,” Sylvain exhales, and he lays back down, facing Felix, “I put myself in his shoes and thought, what if it was the other way around? What if I saw him with those sore looking cuts up his side out of nowhere? I would have been devastated.”

Felix closes his eyes and winces as he realises what he’s going to say next.

“And I guess I felt that devastation for real just now.”

“Sylvain…” Felix mumbles again.

“You have to stop it,” Sylvain says, a heavy certainty sitting in his words, “You do it because you feel too much, right? And you don’t know how else to get it out?”

Felix nods, slightly astounded that he can tell so easily, but he gathers that he knows from his own experiences.

“Well, there’s got to be another way you can vent all that out that doesn’t hurt you.”

Sylvain lays on his back again, rolling his lips in as he thinks, staring at the ceiling and tapping his fingers on his stomach.

“I did try drumming,” Felix says sheepishly, “But it wasn’t… enough.”

After turning his head to Felix, Sylvain slides out of the bed and wanders over to the drum kit stuffed into the corner of Felix’s bedroom. Without saying a word, Felix watches him drag each piece of the kit into the centre of the room, perching on the stool with his hands on his knees when he is done.

“Try drumming again,” Sylvain suggests as he catches his breath, a subdued desperation lurking in his tone, “Please, Felix.”

Felix purses his lips and pulls the covers even further over him to hide all but his eyes. He’s so touched by Sylvain’s actions, his words, his stories of his own experiences – Sylvain is Felix’s best friend, his light in the dark, and he needs him.

“I will try,” he says with true determination in his voice. Sylvain appears to sense his honesty, and a small smile breaks out across his face in relief.

“I’m sorry,” Felix mumbles timidly as Sylvain climbs back under the covers.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he interrupts before Felix can fit in any self-deprecating comments, “Just tell me that you won’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Felix says assuredly, holding eye contact with Sylvain as the rest of his face is still hidden beneath the covers, “I mean it.”

“Hm,” Sylvain hums, with an eyebrow raised, “Okay. I believe you.”

He rolls onto his back, stretches his arms out in the air, and lets out a deep yawn.

“I know saying it won’t change anything,” he starts in a low voice, his eyes already closed, “But you really will never be left behind.”

Felix hums in half-hearted response as he looks up at Sylvain between long, sleepy blinks.

“You’ll always have me,” he says, his voice husky and drifting, “I’ll never leave you.”

“Promise?” Felix asks, feeling tears slowly gathering in his throat again, but this time out of hope instead of despair.

“Promise that we’ll stick together until we die,” Felix continues as he looks up at Sylvain, his breath steadying.

Just as Felix is wondering how he manages to drift off to sleep so quickly, Sylvain carelessly throws a hand in his general direction, his pinkie finger extended, silently offering a promise.

After focusing on breathing away the tears crawling up his throat, Felix links his pinkie finger around Sylvain’s, who smiles lightly when he feels him.

Sylvain always keeps his promises.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry,” Glenn says before Felix can continue, “I’ve not had a good chat with Sylvain for a while.”
> 
> Chapter 2 is a short snippet of Sylvain and Glenn on the drive over to Sylvain's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise update!! i always wanted to get this tiny part out before i posted any more works of this au, and i am here to tell u, the next one is coming very /very/ soon so please look forward to it! <3
> 
> also, in chapter 3, i've included a playlist of some of the songs i listened to to inspire me and get in the zone of this work, in case anyone would like to take a listen! i thought it would be fun to include, and might add to the way that you guys read the characters ^^ 
> 
> please enjoy these extra little bits on heavy days, and look forward to the next fic in the series which i'll be posting really soon! and as always, thank you so much for taking the time to read :)

“Hey, easy,” Glenn warns as Sylvain slams the car door shut, “I just got these done.”

“Woah,” Sylvain says, admiring the navy-blue marble hydro printing on the door’s accents, running his finger along it, “This is sick.”

“Dashboard too,” Glenn says through a complacent smirk, gesturing to the matching print behind the wheel, “I ran out of stuff to do on the outside. Inheritance money was burning a hole in my pocket.”

For a moment, Sylvain pauses, unsure how to respond. Glenn quickly senses his unease.

“Watch this,” he says, putting the car in ignition and flicking a switch. With the hum of the engine, the floor at Sylvain’s feet lights up a deep blue.

“Dude,” he chuckles, “LED lights?”

“Yep,” Glenn nods, the fluorescent colours reflecting on his pale skin, “Bit flashy though. I don’t have them on a lot. Only when I wanna impress a girl.”

Glenn’s car is _really_ fucking cool. Sylvain doesn’t think he’d be the best driver – and definitely not anything like Glenn – but he’d be willing to try and learn if he could get a car like this. Imagine all the girls _he_ could impress.

On that thought, Sylvain guesses that Felix is probably not a fan of the flashy lights.

As soon as Glenn was old enough to learn to drive, he was always involved in the local racing club, and the home racetrack is only a twenty minute journey off his block (though his favourite track is Conand Circuit, which takes a couple of hours travel). His parents were supportive from day one, particularly Rodrigue, who loves upgrading and customising cars as a hobby. An expensive hobby at that, but he earns more than enough to keep it going.

By the time Glenn was eighteen, he was practically a neighbourhood hero – he’d competed in all the local events, been in the newspaper countless times, he’d even got an agent. Soon after, he was heavily promoted to compete in the Faerghus Grand Prix, the largest national motorsport event in the country.

He was gearing up to compete this year but decided to take a rain check on it after his mother passed. He’ll make it to the Grand Prix next time, for sure. And then the step after that is Fódlan International. And then, he’s basically racing king of the continent. The best of the best. No one can make even a scratch on Glenn’s potential.

In comparison, Felix is growing up preferring to stay in the back seat (no pun intended) and keeping himself out of the spotlight. He already has an interest in mechanics, and he has the talent for it, as well.

The Fraldarius family often joke that petrol and tobacco flows through their veins instead of blood.

Sylvain idolizes Glenn, with his tattoo sleeves, his laid-back but edgy sense of style, his stubbly face and his curly black hair with shaved sides (it looks especially good when he pulls it back into a top knot), his piercing blue eyes and his wide grin. Sylvain wants to be just like him when he’s twenty-one himself.

“Polo?” Glenn offers, passing a pack of mints to Sylvain.

“Cheers,” he says as he takes one, strapping his seatbelt across his chest.

Pulling out of the driveway, Glenn turns on the audio, and _Wherever I May Roam_ by Metallica blares through his custom speakers. He leans back in his reclined seat as he drives, completely relaxed – perhaps a little _too_ relaxed – steering with his knees for a while as he ties his hair back.

They drive with the windows rolled down, and Glenn zooms cleanly through the suburban streets, Sylvain savouring the feel of the wind rushing through his hair and pelting the skin on his face.

_Oh yeah,_ he thinks, _I’ve gotta learn to drive ASAP._

“So, how do you do it?” Glenn asks, having to raise his voice over the noise of the brisk winds and the heavy riffs through the speakers.

“Do what?” Sylvain responds.

“You know,” Glenn says, gesturing with his hand on the wheel, “Work your magic on Felix. Get him out of the shadows.”

“Oh,” Sylvain chuckles, almost sheepishly, “I mean, I don’t really know. I just… hang out with him?”

“Dude,” Glenn laughs, his grin wide, “You’re the only one that can pull him up for air like that.”

“Really?” Sylvain says in doubt, shaking his head, leaning an arm against the door frame.

_I’m really that special to someone?_

“Yeah,” Glenn says easily as he turns the car round a sharp left, “Anyway, I wasn’t going to ask earlier, but what’s up with your face?”

Sylvain chuckles, noticing his exact reflection of his younger brother’s words.

“Eh, It’s nothing,” Sylvain brushes it off.

“Oh, come on,” Glenn nudges, “You’ve got a plaster strapped across your nose and blood all down your tie. You can’t _not_ tell me.”

Sylvain sighs. Should he tell him the truth of what happened?

“It was just some guys picking on Ingrid again,” he says, deciding it wasn’t worth sending Glenn into protective big brother mode. Felix would hate that.

“Ahh, poor princess,” Glenn says, “Good lad though. You gotta look out for them, you know. Like a big brother.”

Sylvain picks at the skin round his thumbnail, looking down in his lap. “Yeah.”

“But, hey,” Glenn says in a lower, more serious tone, reaching across to put a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder without averting his eyes from the road, “Don’t you go getting yourself too bashed up in the process. You’ve got to look out for yourself as well, alright?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain repeats, sticking his hand out the window to feel the wind rush between his fingers.

_I’m working on that,_ he thinks to himself.


	3. heavy days - a (mini) playlist

so, i thought it might be a nice idea to share a playlist of the songs i listened to while working on this fic, and the au in general (there are many, many more works to come), in case you guys might want to take a listen to understand my characterisation of everyone a little more!

  1. _brother_ by aaron smith: although i didn’t touch upon it too heavily in this fic, i listened to this song a lot while forming the relationship (or lack thereof) between sylvain and miklan – the two of them and their relationship over the years becomes much more relevant in the future works of this au, so i hope this song might be a good hint of the tone!
  2. _figure it out_ by royal blood: just… sylvain vibes… just a kid like me tryna figure it out.. this song is one of the many many songs i listened to when working on his characterisation for this au, but i feel like this one fits him even this early, when in the main fics he’s aged like, 21 or smth
  3. _complexes_ by tonight alive: again, i honestly didn’t really touch too heavily on the cracks in sylvain and felix’s friendship in this work, but this is one of the songs i listen to most often when thinking abt their bond (and later, with ingrid and dimitri added in as well) if you read between the lines you can get a pretty good idea of what’s lying underneath
  4. _in too deep_ by sum 41: THIS SONG basically birthed like. the entire faerghus four social experience at school. like they have a real shitty time!! in the next work i reveal much more about ingrid and dimitri, and also they’re fairly older (they’ll be around 17-19, and they’re still one or two years before going to university) but yeah just. bullies. but at least they have each other right… right?
  5. _everything affects me now_ by love fame tragedy: felix grieving. felix hating that he’s sensitive to everything now. felix not being able to verbalise his emotions bc he doesn’t even know where to _start_ …. ‘ _now i’m wiser than my father // no one left to show me how’_ maybe a little insight into how his relationship w his father develops
  6. _zombie (english ver.)_ by day6: again just felix grieving. felix being depressed. this song is a funny one for this au, bc in the first three works (this one, and the two that will follow) it links to different characters – in heavy days, it rings a lot for felix, in the second one it’s more dimitri, and in the third one it’s more sylvain
  7. _wherever i may roam_ by metallica: glenn’s theme tune. god bless him. he is so cool. i wish he was real so i could marry him. he gets even better in the next work i am so sorry in advance for the overwhelmingly intense crushes that we’re all gonna get on glenn



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on twitter @fhirdiad_  
> thank you so much for reading! <3


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